Working It Out
by TheRowlingPierceWriter
Summary: Harry and Hermione fight, reflect, both to songfics. Ending is just a story.
1. Hermione's Side

Hermione couldn't believe she had done such a thing to herself. How stupid she had been! She left Harry, whom she loved most in the entire world. She felt like she was suffocating when she wasn't near him. Yet she had just let him go. And now she was alone, utterly alone. She knew she could get him back-couldn't she? Did he still love her, even though she had blamed him for something he didn't do? Could he take her back and make her life worth living once again? She could only hope, and will, for that to happen. Or had she killed him? Smothered him by immediately putting him on the spot-when he was innocent? She wept freely; brooding over the things the two of them had done together.

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You look in my eyes

And I get emotional inside

I know it's crazy

But you can still touch my heart

Still crying in self-pity, she thought of all the wonderful things he had done for her. There had been one day, when she had been really downhearted, really upset over some events that had occurred around than. She huddled in her dormitory on her bed, not wanting to be near anyone. Her face hidden under a pillow and her curtains draped shut, she heard a creaking of the heavy door to the room opening and closing. She leapt up. "Hello?" She called tentatively. There came no reply. She crept out of bed, ready to attack. The attacker was-a bouquet of roses, and a note. She picked them up and smelled them, then read the note as well.

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And after all this time

You'd think that I

I wouldn't feel the same

But time melts into nothing

It was from Harry-no prizes to those of you who guessed that already. The note was short, and simple. **Hermione**, it read. **Heard you were having a bad day. Hope this cheers you up. Love, Harry.** Hermione had put the flowers in a vase and secured the note in a safe place before running out to find him. She found him almost instantly, in the common room. He got up to greet her with a hug and a kiss, which, if the roses hadn't already done it, cheered her up magnificently. There was nothing she wanted more than to just stay in his gentle grip, to be held by the one she loved. She was-for a while, anyway. Harry rocked her gently, easing the pain and putting Hermione into a trance. She loved him so much than.

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And nothing's changed

I still believe, someday you and me

Will find ourselves in love again

I had a dream, someday you and me

She corrected herself. She had always loved him, from the bottom of her heart-whether she was conscious of that feeling or not. She sobered, and her mind presented her with another memory. Hermione had been sitting by herself in the Gryffindor Common Room when a pair of hands placed themselves over her eyes. She knew by the way she shivered that it was Harry. He crooned in her ear, "Shhh." And she obeyed. He placed a blindfold over her eyes, not too tightly, and lifted her up into his warm hold. She wasn't sure of how long he carried her, but after a short duration, he stopped. He slid her easily onto the ground so that she had time to collect herself and land on her feet without falling. 

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Will find ourselves in love again

Each day of my life

I'm filled with all the joy I could find

You know that I am not the desperate type

He grabbed her hand, opened a door (presumably, that was just the noise Hermione heard and decided that he was opening the door) shut it again, and lifted off the handkerchief. She gasped. The classroom-for it was an empty classroom he had taken her to-was decorated beautifully. Black drapes covered the walls, shimmering with diamond shaped dots. It resembled being up in the sky at night, with only blackness and stars as scenery. In the center of the room was a table, seated for two. A candle burned in the middle, and Hermione heard soft, romantic music playing from somewhere. She sucked in her breath-it was so unbelievable!

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If there's one spark of hope left in my grasp

I'll hold it with both hands

It's worth the risk of burning to have a second chance

No, no, no, no, no, no, I need you baby

Harry reached forward and pulled out Hermione's seat for her. She sat down, and Harry poured her a drink in a wineglass from some unseen source. He served her dinner as well, and they ate and talked for what seemed like hours. At the end of their meal, Harry held out a hand to her. She took it, and while the music provided a rhythm for them, they danced. 

Harry dipped her, and whirled her. He was a very talented dancer, she found, though she couldn't be sure if that was just magic making him that way. Either way, she had a brilliant time. Harry carried her again, this time to her bed, and kissed her goodnight. A smile stayed on her lips the whole night, as though the dinner could be preserved in her dreams forever. 

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I still believe that we can be together

If we believe that true love never has to end

Than we must know that will love again

I still believe, someday you and me

Hermione was agonized by the fact that she had left Harry. Because she had seen him-the memory was grueling, but she made herself bring it about-kissing another girl. Some sixth year. She later found out that he had just been lying on the couch when she had came up and started kissing him. Talk about desperate! This girl couldn't even get a man; she had to pick one off the streets (or couch, depending) and make out with him. So Hermione had concluded he wasn't loyal. To her knowledge, he still was. Why, oh why, couldn't she have realized she was making a mistake? Harry was the best thing in her life, not to mention the only thing that made her truly happy, right down to her very soul. Harry…Hermione...

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Will find ourselves in love again

I had a dream, someday you and me

Will find ourselves in love again

She knew what she had to do to get her beloved back. Knew it, but daren't do it. Her pride kept her from being reunited with Harry and she was ashamed. She missed him terribly, his kisses and his touch. His voice, the way he constantly knew exactly what she wanted him to do. His way of being romantically spontaneous. Dancing with her under the stars, showering her with flowers, holding candlelight dinners just for her. He was perfect for her, was she good enough to be with him? Would he take her back, and make all her wishes and dreams come true? How could she possibly live happily ever after without him? Princesses didn't ride on their own white horses into the sunset. Prince Charming had to be there, too.


	2. Harry's Side

He was lost within himself. Trapped. Lonely. Yearning for her, his radiating jewel, Hermione. He had so carelessly tossed her aside; not realizing that he needed her like a dying flower needs the sun's healthy light. For he was dying, mentally and emotionally. Without her, where was he? Everything washed together, time, events, people…Nothing mattered to him anymore but her. It was all about her. Sitting on his bed, rocking back and forth, he pictured her. Laughing, her eyes sparkling so joyously. She danced, whirling and spinning than held out her hand for his. He took it and they waltzed and serenaded. How fickle his daydreaming was! She would never take him back. How could she, after what he had done to her? He cried miserably, holding himself pitifully.

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Everybody's got something

They had to leave behind

One regret from yesterday

That just seems to grow with time

How he wished he could take those cruel words back! Every fiber in his body loved her, and he had shown her the exact opposite that night. The night when Harry and Hermione had officially became two beings, two different people once again. He had missed his cue, thrown away his chance at being the luckiest guy alive. Hermione was a prize, that was true, as well as many other things. He remembered the day when the two of them, led by Hermione, had searched the Hogwarts grounds until they found a strawberry patch. She had laughed, and picked them, feeding some to Harry and saving some for later. He discreetly placed one in his pocket, and it was still there. A painful, wrenching memory…

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There's no use looking back or wondering

How it could be now or might have been

All this I know but still I can't find ways

To let you go

The strawberry sat in his outstretched palm, now shriveled, only a trace of the plump, rich fruit it had once been. She touched this, he thought. Right before he had tucked it away, she plucked it from the ground and gave it to Harry, giggling. He wasn't sure if he could ever go back to that patch of strawberries. It would bring back too much and he would be overcome by thoughts of her. Her, Hermione, his loved one, even if she didn't know it. For over all this time, of being separate, he hadn't let her go. Everything in his body screamed at him to get her back, and he wanted to. More than anything. Alas, it was impossible. She could never take back Harry. He wasn't good enough, wasn't pure enough, to be loved by Hermione, in his eyes she was the picture of perfection and beauty, always.

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I never had a dream come true

'Til the day that I found you

Even though I pretend that I've moved on

You'll always be my baby

Harry's mind, of it's own accord, drifted to another memory, one that made him ache even more. It was a dark, damp day that all students were confined in the castle. Rain pelted the windows and the mood was gloomy and depressed all around. All save for Hermione. She had taken Harry's hand as soon as she noticed the rain and led him out into the storm. They stood in the midst of lightning and thunder, and she pulled him close and kissed him. Harry forgot about the water soaking him to the bone and the electricity threatening to kill them both. Hermione was near, that was the only thing he cared about, and if they ever went inside, back into the safe, cozy castle, life would suddenly spring back into place and reality would set its ugly hands upon Harry as before. 

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I never found the words to say

You're the one I think about each day

And I know no matter where life takes me to

A part of me will always be with you 

The kiss did eventually have to end, but Harry's joy did not. Hermione laughed as she pulled the two of them into the top branches of a large tree nearby. The leaves and branches made a canopy above them, protecting them. Harry held her close as the storm raged, and she fell asleep in his arms. Looking down at her, his eyes filled with tears. They were so close, so into one another. How lucky he had been to have her, just for that short interval! The duration in which they had been that way, Harry thought, would haunt him forever. No girl would come close to Hermione, he was positive. She was in her own league, above all the rest. Harry knew he had to get her back. He would do anything for her, just to have her. Not that he would ever possess her, no one ever could.

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Somewhere in my memory

I've lost all sense of time

And tomorrow can never be

Because yesterday is all that fills my mind

Yet another incident came to Harry. Hogwarts had hosted it's first ever Valentine's Dance, and they had gone together. The first slow song was pure magic. Harry and Hermione contemplated each other. As they moved, slowly, drifting about the room, they seemed to be in their own world. Encased by magic fog and fairy dust, none could see the pair of them and the only things they could see, wanted to see, ever wanted to see, was each other. He had studied her face, in hopes that he could imprint the image of her in his mind forever. Her huge, laughing sapphire eyes and ochre hair. The tiny nose that perked up so slightly and the full smile. Her skin, rosy and pale at the same time, her high cheekbones and long eyelashes that batted in that sweet, flirtatious way of hers. 

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There's no use looking back or wondering

How it should be now or might have been

All this I know but still I can't find ways

To let you go

The very next moments during that song-which one had it been? –they kissed. A monumental kiss, as it was their first one. Harry thought of the day he had gathered up the courage to ask her to that very dance. Shying like a frightened animal, he had approached her. Wringing his sweaty hands and pushing defiant strands of hair away from his eyes, he spoke. "Will, you, ah, um, er, if you want to, I completely understand if you don't, ah, um, that is to say, er, ah, go to the dance with me?" She had flashed him that 100-watt grin, dazzling him. He took that as a yes when she embraced him. How flawless life had been than! He had had Hermione, if you could put it that way, and nothing else mattered to him. Hermione was his thoughts, his dreams, and his very life. 

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I never had a dream come true

'Til the day that I found you

Even though I pretend that I've moved on

You'll always be my baby

And than there had been a time, not long ago, in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was an ordinary night; that is, ordinary for Hogwarts. Fred and George were setting off Filibuster Fireworks in paper bags, Neville was trying (fruitlessly) to learn a Sleeping Hex for Defense Against The Dark Arts, Lavender and Parvati were gossiping endlessly, and Hermione and Harry were curled up on an armchair in front of the roaring fire. She had fallen asleep, lying in his arms. The flames flickered and the light they produced danced eerily over everyone's faces-except for hers. She was still blissfully innocent and peaceful, the firelight, if anything, only enhanced the mystery she carried with her. Harry wasn't uncomfortable having Hermione on top of him, in fact it just made him happy.

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I never found the words to say

You're the one I think about each day

And I know no matter where life takes me to

A part of me will always be with you

They had stayed in that armchair, all lumpy and smelling of cats (the armchair, not Hermione and Harry!) for several hours. Harry felt bliss, true bliss, to be near her. He became ecstatic. Hermione didn't stir. Around midnight, he picked her up, carried her to her bed and gently tucked her in, giving her a quick kiss on the nose before retiring himself. Harry shook his head fiercely, as if to block out the thoughts filtering into his mind. Thoughts of Hermione, of the time they had spent as one…It was all too much. How was he to be expected to live without her? It was like trying to run without legs, fly without wings. Impossible. Hermione had claimed a part of his heart he had never allowed anyone to even touch before. A wounded, beaten and bruised part from the pains of his childhood. She had healed him, no doubt about that. But he wasn't done hurting.

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You'll always be the dream that fills my head

Yes you will, say you will

You know you will, oh baby

You'll always be the one I know I'll never forget.

Though Harry tried desperately not to let this image float before his eyes, it came, ripping at him. Slicing his heart in two just as easily as a pair of scissors would a piece of parchment. Harry was lying on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, by himself. He was just lazing, nothing more, when a sixth year walked cautiously toward him. He made no note of her, she was probably just passing through, so he closed his eyes and thought of Hermione. The way her lips felt on his, the magic they created, the heat of her body and the loveliness of her features-when someone's lips were on his! Not Hermiones'-he could tell that right away-some other girls'. Harry jerked back immediately; hoping no one had seen the kiss. His hopes were dashed as he saw Hermione run from the room…

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It's no use looking back or wondering

Because love is a strange and funny thing

No matter how I try and try

I just can't say goodbye, no, no, no, no

Her face had been tear streaked, Harry was able to see that from the small glimpse he had had. He cursed the girl who had finished Hermione off for him, and knew it did no good since he didn't even see her, his eyes had been shut the whole time. Poor Hermione! He hadn't meant to hurt her, he would rather die. Of course, from that moment on, their relationship was over. There was no more 'us' just 'you' and 'I'. How Harry missed the 'us'! Hermione was Harry's other half, maybe his other three-quarters or maybe she was he, he was just no longer she. His whole body ached when he thought about her. He was tortured by the fact that she didn't love him anymore. He had killed something that wasn't meant to be killed, but was anyway. The deep bond of true love.

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I never had a dream come true

'Til the day that I found you

Even though I pretend that I've moved on

You'll always be my baby

"Hermione." He whispered the word, savoring it, letting it fall off his tongue with the cat-like grace she, and only she, had. "Please take me back. Please…please…please…" His words became sobs as he curled into a ball and hurt. The purpose of life, he concluded, had diminished. Why live if Hermione wasn't right there, living alongside him? He didn't want her to be the enemy, she was an alias! Harry rolled over and over in agony, breaking into a cold sweat. He thrashed about, knowing it did no good but did it anyway. She didn't want him and he desired her above anything else. It wasn't fair. Love was supposed to have happy endings. Where was Harry's happy ending? Why couldn't he be Prince Charming and ride off into the sunset with Hermione on his white horse?

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I never found the words to say

You're the one I think about each day

And I know no matter where life takes me to

A part of me will always be

A part of me will always be with you 


	3. Happily Ever After

****

Happily Ever After

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No more tears, he told himself savagely. _Crying won't do anything about the fact that you don't have Hermione anymore_. The very thought made him want to curl up into a heartbroken ball and lament. Yet he knew it would do no good, Hermione never had a taste for guys who cried over their problems. And neither did he. So, with much effort, he dragged himself out of his four-poster. Immediately he blinked rapidly, the sun was now peering brightly through the window parallel to his bed. Shielding his eyes, he walked-stumbled, really-over to his trunk. It was with unsteady hands that he undid the clasp and pulled out clean robes. As he strode over to the bathroom to change, he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair stuck out every which way, his eyes were puffy, and he had tear streaks down his cheeks. He grimaced and decided to take a shower. Fifteen minutes later he tripped his way out, looking over noncommittally at his pile of clothes. He felt refreshed, if not better. He still had a sore spot in his chest, a tender wound created by his love for Hermione. He took some time to dress himself, as he kept trying to put his shirt on over his robes. It was to be a very discombobulated day. Lacing up his sneakers, gray New Balances, he headed out of the steamed bathroom. He dug through his trunk for a comb, as he was not one to use a brush of any kind, and wasn't shocked to find that many of its teeth were missing. He ran it through his black hair, which was already beginning to stick up again in the back, and fished his wand out of his back pocket. With trembling fingers he whispered, _Herringium!_ Upon his bed lay a wriggling herring, flopping wildly about for air. "Wrong spell." He said, before casting the fish back to the lake. His bed smelt slightly of herring, though he resolved to fix it later. _Ringadium!_ He muttered, this time sure his incantation was correct. Indeed it was. Where the fish had previously been positioned there was now a small, black box, covered in what seemed to be velvet. He picked it up carefully, and opened it was tense fingers. "Yes!" He whooped. Inside lay the most beautiful thing he could have imagined. His wand had provided a 24K gold ring, set with small diamonds and larger emeralds. In the very center of the ring was the largest gem of all, a ruby, cut like a heart. The piece was of immense beauty and value. He marveled as the sun reflected off its many facets, as it lay resplendent in his palm. He hurriedly placed it back into its box and ran out of his dormitory. Eager footsteps echoed against the walls as he ran to look for Hermione. He checked first the common room, where Hermione most usually was. It was, to his short disappointment, Hermione-free. However, in only seconds, he was struck by the thought of where she was seventy-five percent of the day and he could be heard pounding down the corridors to the library. He flung open the door with grandeur and searched with his emerald eyes for Hermione. He found her, sitting solemnly at a large table covered with books, bits of parchment, and quills. He hastily sprinted to her, and didn't speak at all as he knelt down on one knee. Hermione fixed her gaze upon him. With speculative eyes she watched him produce the box from somewhere within his robes. He opened it, revealing the ravishing, jewel-set ring. Her expression changed from that of scrutinizing to that of delight. 

"Hermione," Harry spoke for the first time since entering the library, "will you marry me?" He looked up at her hopefully, not wavering in the least. Hermione felt tears slid down her cheeks as she embraced Harry warmly. "Yes, Harry. Yes. I will marry you. I will! I will! I'll marry you!" She loved the words, loved the way they felt upon her tongue, the way they slid out with pure feeling, and left that of content in her mouth. The clouds floated lazily out the window, with the giant squid gurgling incessantly, and they fell into a deep enfolding. Hermione never wished to leave Harry. She snuggled against his chest, warm and happy, and whispered, "I love you, my prince." He nodded and agreed, "And I you, my darling."


End file.
